


You Put the Boom-Boom Into My Heart

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-10
Updated: 2008-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Felipe did not use nor answer his radio to report his engine failure; given that his car had rolled to an ignominious halt almost at the exit of the pitlane, perhaps he'd decided to save the energy. Perhaps he wasn't just utterly distraught.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Put the Boom-Boom Into My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/profile)[tasyfa](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/). Spans from Sunday in Budapest to Sunday in Valencia. Partially inspired by Rob's admission that he might have had a bit of a cry after Felipe's engine blew in Hungary. No apologies for the title. ;)

Smoke billowed from the track side of the pitwall, and as Rob's eyes flicked from the white plumes to the screens before him, first the sector times and then the television feed, a boulder dropped in his stomach.

Felipe did not use nor answer his radio to report his engine failure; given that his car had rolled to an ignominious halt almost at the exit of the pitlane, perhaps he'd decided to save the energy. Perhaps he wasn't just utterly distraught.

Minutes later, after having watched Felipe's dejected, long walk up the pitlane towards the Ferrari garage, watched him shake his head disconsolately as the Toyota team bowled out of their garage behind him to punch the air as Timo crossed the line, after having slid off his perch on the pitwall as the Brazilian finally reached the garage with his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, Rob watched as Felipe unbuckled his helmet strap and disappeared out of view into the back of the garage. He didn't make a move to follow his driver. Instead he just stood there, feeling his hands twitch with the need to reach out. Time slipped by, and as Rob made his way into the half-empty garage he was stopped in his tracks as the Finnish national anthem began to echo distantly down the pitlane. After standing there for a few moments he gave a heavy sigh, the reality of it all thudding down on his shoulders. He laid his clipboard on the cabinet nearest him, sat down and let his head sink into his hands.

Later still, once in the safety of the Ferrari motorhome and with the press commitments and de-briefings already becoming a memory, those hands would reach for Felipe and clasp him close as the Brazilian's shoulders shuddered with each hitched breath, face buried into his chest for a few moments free of the pained restraint he'd shown amongst the rest of the team.

The moment became skewed irreparably when suddenly, in a fit of something that Rob didn't have a chance to ascertain, Felipe curled his hands into the front of Rob's shirt, drew his head up and brought his mouth to the other man's in a fierce kiss. Stunned, Rob did not recoil, and feeling an ache in his chest at both the victory just lost and his driver's tangible heartbreak, he cupped the back of Felipe's head and reciprocated, lips parting for a deeper taste. Almost as suddenly as it began, Felipe broke away, exhaling sharply, and Rob caught a flash of desperation in reddened eyes before the Brazilian dipped his head, burrowing into his chest again. Rob swallowed, head spinning a little, heart tripping over itself, before tentatively draping his arms around the smaller man. Felipe, thankfully, was now quiet.

 

The 'incident', as Rob's brain had, somewhat typically, simply labelled it, wasn't spoken of again. Three weeks passed without a race weekend, but not without work. Felipe came to Turin and worked like a demon in the simulator, his engine from Hungary dismantled and examined minutely back at Maranello. Back to business. Rob didn't sense any awkwardness between himself and his driver, though because there was no mention of the incident, no sheepish laugh, no knowing glance, no averted gaze...he really wasn't sure. Every time he saw Felipe in those three weeks he had his 'work' head on, and he suspected Felipe did too. There really wasn't _time_ to be awkward.

Valencia's time arrived, the unpolished Monaco-esque atmosphere enamouring itself to many drivers, the smoothly asphalted circuit – and the hours upon hours spent in the simulator – playing into Felipe's hands. _Pole position, fastest lap, race win. Job done._

Rob only fleetingly wondered if he'd been too blatant on and around the podium. Felipe didn't seem to resist, but nor did he seem very enthused with the physical attention. Slightly at a loss – though he was indescribably elated at the win – Rob decided to hang back a bit for the rest of the day. The de-briefing passed without anything of note, and the team packed up and went their separate ways.

 

That night in the corridor of their Valencia hotel, Rob spotted Felipe heading towards his room, alone for the first time since the race. He debated about heading to his own room and perhaps leaving that 'incident' to history, nothing more than a moment of mutual desperation, a lapse of propriety, and a mistake to be forgotten. Maybe Felipe had already done that, or was at least trying to. Either way, bringing it up after this point in time would be nigh impossible to do with any sort of grace. To crowbar the words, 'Hey, do you remember after Hungary, you kissed me. What was that all about?' into casual conversation was a prospect he didn't relish.

So, he supposed as he heaved a small sigh and headed off after Felipe, that was the decision made for him. These situations didn't call for logical decisions, he grumbled silently to himself as he rounded a corner and caught up with the Brazilian. He hesitated only momentarily, chewing on his lip – _what if he_ is _trying to forget about it, when I've been able to do nothing but think about it?_ – before bundling into Felipe from behind, arms looping around his small frame. The sound of surprise this elicited gave way to a laugh when Rob planted an enthusiastic kiss on the top of his head.

" _Fantastico, fantastico_ ," the Englishman purred, suddenly feeling less apprehensive at the contact. " _Bravo_."

Felipe laughed again, a little more giddily this time. "You sound like Flavio!"

The smaller man didn't pull out of Rob's grasp; in fact, Rob was quite sure that Felipe was leaning back against him. Perhaps 'sagging gratefully' was pushing it, but there was definite leaning going on. Definitely. Seconds ticked by and Felipe seemed comfortable, fitting into his arms, and Rob didn't really know what that could mean in the long run, but for now it settled his soul. Felipe hadn't seemed to mind the kiss on the head, so...

Then the gasp came, a soft little hitch of breath as Rob's mouth tentatively pressed to the back of Felipe's neck. Briefly the smaller man tensed at the touch, then relaxed again, saying nothing but not resisting, and as Rob drizzled little kisses beneath dark curls of hair Felipe's head rocked to the side, pliant. That mouth worked around to just beneath his earlobe while Rob, eyes closed, listened for the telltale changes in Felipe's breathing – a tiny shudder here, a sharper exhalation there – as he kissed at particularly sensitive spots, and when the Brazilian let out a little whine Rob couldn't help but chuckle. "You like me sounding like Flavio?"

Felipe's previously relaxed body stiffened abruptly. "No!" he exclaimed, sounding half amused, half aghast. He wriggled free but stayed close enough to touch, turning to face his assailant with a faint blush in his cheeks. He rubbed a little self-consciously at his neck where lips had been moments before, blush deepening. "Hungary," he began, trailing off just as quickly, eyes focussing on the fingertips that grazed that kissed skin. He flexed his hand and appeared unable to find the words.

Rob, not sure what to do with his own hands, slipped them into his pockets. This was sliding into awkwardness. "Yeah, that," he offered weakly, giving a smile. "I didn't know how to bring it up."

Felipe laughed softly. "Well," he murmured, touching his neck again with a roll of his eyes. Silence fell again.

Rob was usually damn good at reading Felipe, but at that moment he couldn't. He snorted inwardly; of course he couldn't, he'd never had to in a situation like this. Was the Brazilian silently willing him to make another move, or was he just not wanting to be the one to walk away first? Every moment that went by with the two of them just standing there not saying anything made it worse, and he began to feel a bit hopeless.

_Bollocks,_ he thought suddenly. _You're his race engineer, you've gambled on madder odds than this. Though yeah, before now it was tyres or pit stop strategy. Not, you know. Maybe wanting to kiss him. Properly this time._

Felipe cleared his throat, seemed ready to say something, eyelashes veiling his eyes as he looked at the floor. The moment he raised those eyes again, Rob caught that about-to-speak mouth in a heated kiss, fingers tangling into dark hair as he pulled the smaller man tight against him. Felipe shivered lightly in his grasp as his hands skittered over chest, arms, sides, unsure where to rest before finally settling, one at the small of Rob's back, the other at his chest, just lightly. He returned the kiss in earnest, and Rob, senses assaulted as Felipe's tongue swiped into his mouth, felt elated.

"I meant what I said before, you," Rob murmured with a smile once the kiss was over, slightly breathless. "You were fantastic."

Felipe exhaled, returning that smile, and seemed to consider something momentarily before tilting his head up to nuzzle at Rob's neck. "Thanks to you." Rob's eyebrows climbed a little, Felipe's breath coasting warm over his throat and collarbone as he continued with a tiny stutter, voice hushed. "I-I need you."

Instinctively Rob tightened his arm around the smaller man, his heart racing for a brief second or two. He wondered if Felipe could feel it, pressed as close as he was. For a while he said nothing, the hand at Felipe's hip finding the waistband of his jeans and absently stroking at the skin above with his thumb. Felipe arched minutely into the touch. Again Rob found himself not knowing what all this meant, but for now this was good. This was very good.

Finally Rob raised his hand to clasp the one at his chest, resting his cheek against the top of Felipe's head. _I need you,_ Felipe had said.

"Good to know," he whispered.


End file.
